Beneath the Wraps

                Three hours after my last post I had gone from hurt to angry – which is not a cool emotion either but I would rather be angry.  I don’t have to deal with mucus or go through tissues when I am angry. In my last post had said that with each “fuel” added I have relived past emotions believing I hadn’t learned anything. However I have gone through the “stages” a lot quicker this time than in years past.   Before I had gone to bed I had convinced myself that I no longer care.   I’m not saying that’s a good thing.   But I am happy to feel this way as opposed to sobbing uncontrollably.   I also realized my poor reaction may have been due to a lack of sleep. I have been able to sleep much better when I am no longer emotionally invested.                I believe that God experiences emotions such as joy, anger and sadness.  God is immortal.  He may cry bu...

           When I was younger, I enjoyed reading poems and would often write nonsense poems just for the sake of rhyming.   It wasn’t until I was in high school and taking a creative writing class that I learned about many different types of poetry and have often attempted writing different styles.   Some styles I prefer more than others.           I wrote poems for many years.   I wrote poems and started many different story lines, but I don’t think I ever finished a single one.   My mind has mostly raced ahead of my pencil.   The word processor seemed to add an ease to writing stories and biography.   I now have the ability to add things and delete things and not worry about marring the paper in any way.             I rarely write poems anymore.   Sometimes I will work on stories with Jenna.   But mostly what I w...

          I remember my mom and I taking a class together on storybook literature.   Sadly, I don’t recall the name of the instructor but he was of German descent and had had exposure to cruel fairytales versus what he called “watered down” versions that seem traditional in America. I think there had been only   four classes as we met only once a week for only for four weeks – at least that is what I remember.   I don’t know if I recorded anything about it though Corey may have my mom’s version of what took place.           I remember our instructor showed us several frames taken from a graphic story.   I don’t recall there being words, but if there were, he would translate the German captions into English.   The story was on obedience and minding your elders.   Peter had been warned by several adults including mom, dad, and at least one grandparent.   They had told him not to ...

I have recently come across a pile of papers waiting to be sorted.   There were a lot of homework assignments or notes from both Jenna and me.    I copied a few of her stories to read through at a more convenient time and threw the hard copies away.   She doesn't have the best handwriting, and her spelling is atrocious.   Turns out I copied three partial stories.   One was about Emily Rogers, a teacher who wished she had well behaved students and seemed to get her wish - but her "wish come true" turned out to be somewhat eerie.   I love Jenna's imaginative description: it was silent like a cheetah eyeing its prey waiting for the right moment to pounce.   It was sort of creepy.   She had also   written a story about a character named Latisha Cannon who didn't enjoy math and also made a wish not to have it anymore and how the world seemed to change when math was no longer a part of it.   Both Emily and Latisha woke up ...

My last post was about the treasures I discovered on 8mm tapes.  Yesterday I found a notebook with a couple of stories that I would like to share.  The first came from Jenna's head when she was three going on four.  I wish I had filmed her telling it, for it doesn't read quite the same (even with visual aids) as it is to watch her tell the story as she uses "Cootie" parts to emphasize particular parts in the story. For my readers who may not be familiar with the Milton Bradley game, Cooties, here is a brief description and history. The younger generation may view "Cooties" as "cute" game pieces.  The heads on the game I grew up with looked like ants. Keep in mind that Jenna was using a cootie body to demonstrate as she told her story (again and again)  And So the story unfolds:               Once upon a time there was a  caterpillar named Date   w...

I am currently taking a family history class through the Church because Roland wants to take the class but can't always be there and so has asked me to come with him in the event that he has to miss a class. Yesterday we shared memories of our ancestors.  I had known from the beginning that I would need to come up with something.  And I have written down thoughts here and there - but nothing major about anyway.  I finally ended up sharing three stories that mom had shared about herself and a family member's name.  Of course once the class was over, I have been able to come up with some other memories.  Here is one:      My mom has never had a great sense of direction – at least since I’ve known her.   Sometimes she would forget small things and exaggerate about things like, “having to drive around the world” when it had taken her longer to get to places than anticipated.      When she first was...

         It was in January of 2012 that my sibs and I worked together with my niece and her husband to put ourselves on a schedule so that someone would always be at home with my mom – which unfortunately did not always work out.          We would keep in touch by phone and sending the same email to our group so that we could all kind of keep track of what was going on.   It wasn’t until November when Nate decided to create a group page on facebook.   He gave it the name “Operation Grandma Care”.   We started out with Six members and gradually we became Nine.          The site was up for less than three months before we had moved my mom into assisted living. I don’t know when Nate removed himself from the group but it couldn’t have been more than eight months after he’d created the site.   Nevertheless the seven of us that remaine...

          I don’t know how often Roland has asked the following question to various people: “What is the only mammal that cannot jump?”             The answer is, “an elephant.”           Whether it is accurate or not isn’t relevant – not to this post anyway.   Corey liked the title “Elephants Can’t Jump” and thought he would use it for a future post – although he didn’t know what.   I imagined some profound analogy that had nothing to do with elephant at all, but would leave his readers thinking, “What a great post.” as his posts are usually quite thought provoking.           This is neither great nor profound.   Needed fun to lighten up the mood from many of my most recent posts. I had memorized Eletelephony by Laura Elizabeth Richards .   It’s a fun lit...